Right Here
by CocoTapioka
Summary: An alternate take on the scenes with Evangeline and Michael after her kidnapping. Based on the July 11th episode. oneshot.


Right Here

He could hear her voice from outside of the doorway. He couldn't help but smile at the melodic sounds of her everyday speech. "Antonio, its Evangeline…I just came across a case file that will help our case for Jamie." She never stopped working, never stopped helping. Part of her charm. "So I wanted to run it by you, so call me, I'm at the office." I chose that moment to knock on her open door, grinning at the way her eyes lit up. "…and I'll be here 'till late. Okay, bye." She hung up and addressed him at the door.

She looked absolutely exhausted. She was dressed professionally as usual, in one of her crisp blue business suits. Her hair was a bit tussled and he could see faint dark circles under her eyes. He couldn't help but feel a little shy, walking in as she looked around her various mounds of paperwork. She smiled weakly, trying to look together. "You miss a few days, and it's hard to get back into the swing of things."

He smiled in return, grateful for her breezy humor. "Yeah, well, getting kidnapped by a psycho will do that to ya." His face turned serious. His worries pushed him to stop over at her office, but he didn't expect to see her so frazzled. It made him more worried than ever.

She neatly arranged her folders and set them down next to her. "I stopped shaking…an hour ago." He didn't voice how shaken he was by her admission. She nodded briskly. "But I manage."

He wasn't convinced; she sure didn't look like it. "It looks like you're throwing yourself into work."

Evangeline's sharp gaze flashed at him. "That's how I manage."

Typical Evangeline. He shrugged. "It's also how you drive yourself nuts." She watched him skeptically. "You know, you can only throw yourself into work for so long before things start to back up and then …" he paused. "…you're in real trouble."

"Is that from a professional standpoint, doctor?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I know this from watching my brother John." She tensed at the mention of her ex-love's name. He inwardly winced. Mentioning John…bad.

Though, a small part of him couldn't help but smile at her reaction to his brother's name.

"I am not acting like John," she declared.

"Yeah…" Michael responded sarcastically. "I guess you're right. John would _never_ throw himself into his work to cover up what he was going through." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on her desk. Her dark hair slid along her shoulders as he spoke, and he tried his hardest not to be mesmerized.

"You know, remind me to call you the next time I need expert psychological testimony," she bit out. _Ouch_, he thought. The razor sharp wit of hers was one of her more endearing qualities, but it was a bit harsher when it was turned on him.

She slammed a book on the table and feverishly began to leaf through her manila folders.

"Am I wrong?" he asked gently.

"No, you're just confusing me with his _other_ muse – Natalie!" She stood, opening a file cabinet. "She's the one who allegedly has so much in common with your brother!" He had no idea her anger ran that deeply. No wonder she dumped John.

Evangeline's eyes widened in shock and she gasped. "God, that was bitchy."

Michael pursed his lips, part of him struggling not to laugh. "It's okay."

She dropped the folder on her desk. "No, no it's not." She pressed her hand to her neck. "I promised Natalie that we were gonna get out together or we weren't going to get out at all. And here I am, taking cheap shots at her." His merriment dissipated as he saw how genuinely disappointed she was in herself.

Michael stood. "See, this is what I'm talking about." He couldn't resist the temptation and he rested his hands on her shoulders, looking directly in her eyes. "You are not like John." She took a deep breath and exhaled, nodding. "Nobody could be that stubborn."

Slowly, painfully, he moved his hands. "You can't just pretend that this thing with this nutcase didn't affect you." Evangeline combed her hands through her thick, dark hair and he wished that he could do the same. "You can't bottle it all up and go on like nothing ever happened." The desire to make it all go away for her wouldn't leave him.

She shook her head. "Don't worry. Don't worry, I feel it all, I feel it all…" she inhaled a quivering breath. "Fear, that the killer's gonna come back…" her voice shook and she blinked, keeping her tears at bay. His heart ached for her. "Relief that I survived…" she smiled shakily. Michael watched her intently. "And the pain and the hurt that the one I need to lean on most right now isn't here for me."

And he felt his heart break. For her, and for himself.

Why couldn't she see that he would be there for her, whenever she needed him?

Why couldn't she see that she was too magnificent a woman to be waiting for John?

A pained expression crossed his face, but she barely noticed; her eyes were so glassy. She blinked away the tears again, but one got caught in her eyelashes. She laid a hand on his chest, making him bite back a gasp at her proximity. She slowly slid down into her seat, shuddering.

"It comes in waves, Michael," she whispered despondently. His heart continued to shatter at how completely broken she sounded. "And when they hit…I, I break down for a few minutes and then I move on." He exhaled and returned to his original seat. He watched her silently, but he couldn't help it when his thoughts came straight out of his mouth.

"You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

She smiled brilliantly. "I'm very amazing," she replied, surprising him for a moment. The surprise left him when he realized that she really had no need to be overly humble. "And it's not enough."

He sighed sadly. "It's pretty crazy how things can change so much in one night."

Michael watched her eyes glitter darkly and her face harden. "It's taken every ounce of strength that I have not to give into the rage and the hatred at that son of a bitch that took Natalie and me."

He felt his respect for her grow in leaps and bounds, if possible. "I have to give you credit for being able to get back into work and focus, because when Marcie and I have problems, it takes a couple hours for me to shake 'em off." It was the truth. The honest to God truth, and he honestly wished that he didn't have to go through it in the first place.

When he was around Evangeline, he forgot his problems in seconds flat. Her effervescent presence helped him to realize that droning on his problems wasn't helpful. It was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her.

She smiled, apparently happy to get her mind off of her own drama. She grinned sardonically. "I'll remember that the next time I have to go to the ER." He couldn't help but smile at her tongue-in-cheek comment. "And I'm not that together," she whispered. "trust me."

"Well," he responded truthfully. "You fake it damn well."

She smiled. "I'm a master." She paused. "I ran into your brother, earlier today."

He felt a pang of pain. When would she realize that John didn't deserve her? "How was that?" he asked dully.

"He kissed me…" she paused. "But that's all that happened."

A morbid part of him had to know. "Why did you stop it?"

She was silent, her eyes to the ceiling, thinking. "It's not enough," she responded. "Not anymore." He nodded. That made sense. "I realized that it would take years, and a whole lot of heartache to get through all of John's --- stuff. And I still might come up empty."

"Yeah," he whispered.

"I love myself too much for that."

_I love you too much for that._

She abruptly cut eye contact. "Anyway," she started, her tone completely business. "Life goes on, and I need to get back to work."

He got her drift. "Hey, uh, yeah. Hey, listen. I want you to know, we both know my brother's a jerk." She giggled and smiled. "But I don't think that should stop us from being friends." He watched her hopefully, and felt his heart lift as a bright smile slowly crossed her face.

"I could always use a friend," she said dearly. He couldn't resist pulling her into a warm hug, inhaling the scent of Flowers in Springtime.

"If you need me…" he breathed. "You'll know where I'll be."

She nodded. "Yeah."

He stood outside her door silently. He wished that she wasn't in so much pain.

He wished that she would forget about the killer, stop shaking and almost crying.

He wished she would forget about John.

So she could see he was right here.

--

Hmm. Don't know where that one came from.


End file.
